


Bingo!

by kethni



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Season/Series 01, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22014619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: ‘I’ve been where you are,’ Bob said gently. ‘You want to push legislation, you want to make positive change in the world, but you’re stuck as the president’s fall guy. Most of the time you’re locked out and when you’re included it feels like you’re only there to be derided or insulted.’
Comments: 8
Kudos: 3





	Bingo!

**Author's Note:**

> For CrazyMaryT

Selina trashed her office. It wasn’t as satisfying as she hoped. As she stood, panting, over a smashed vase, Amy cleared her throat.

‘So, we’re thinking you could –’

‘Suck up?’ Selina demanded. ‘Kiss oil company ass?’

‘Not directly,’ Amy said. ‘The optics would be –’

‘The green types would _crucify_ us,’ Dan said.

Selina sat on the edge of her desk. ‘Indirectly means what?’

Amy and Dan exchanged looks.

‘As bad as that?’ Selina groaned.

‘What you need is someone with the ear of Big Oil but whom you could reasonably claim to be talking to about other things,’ Amy said. ‘Politics generally.’

‘Being vice president,’ Dan suggested.

Selina’s face darkened with realisation. ‘No.’

‘He’s a consultant for the oil supplier’s group,’ Amy said. ‘He’s trusted and well liked.’

‘And he’s been where you are,’ Dan added. ‘You can like _bond_ over the powerlessness of being vice president.’

Selina bared her teeth. ‘Are you seriously suggesting I have anything in common with the lamest vice president in modern history?’

‘Actually, in the _Washington Post_ the other week said they had a poll which showed you were lower than…’ Mike trailed off as they all glared at him.

‘Ma’am,’ Amy said. ‘He’s willing to talk to you. That’s more than most of the other oil consultants are willing to do.’

Selina groaned. ‘But he’s so _lame_.’

‘Maybe don’t say that to him,’ Amy advised.

‘He’s been married for years,’ Dan said. ‘Maybe show a bit of leg.’

Selina narrowed her eyes. ‘He would be lucky to see my ankle.’

***

Selina got into the elevator and checked herself in the mirrored walls. Lighting in these things were always fucking terrible. Was that a little grey hair at her roots? Shit. What was the point of Gary if he didn’t keep on top of these things?

She needed to make a good impression. They’d met once or twice in passing. They’d never had a conversation longer than a few words. But she’d seen him. He even looked boring. Vanilla handsome. He was what people thought of when they said “politician.” Mid-range suit. Mid-range haircut. Nice ass. Cowboy boots for some fucking reason. He hadn’t looked down her dress, even though she barely came to his shoulder.

She straightened her dress. This wasn’t supposed to be her life. She was supposed to be the president, damn it. She was going to be powerful and composed and gracious. She would make sweeping changes that would revolutionise the country. Hell, the world! Get rid of the guns. Sort out the pay gap. Have Andrew deported. Instead she was here, in a hotel that charged more per night then the average American made in a month, to go cap in hand to a man famed for being bland and boring. A man who, even as vice president, was more beholden to Big Oil than to his voters.

The average American, hah. Like those assholes had any clue about the real world.

The elevator doors opened, and Selina’s Secret Service team fanned out into the marble and gold encrusted hallway.

Selina patted her hair as she strolled out into the hallway. She could do this. Just go in. Listen to whatever he had to whine about, nod politely, and leave. Easy.

***

‘Bourbon?’ he asked, waggling a glass at her. He was in his shirt sleeves. His forearms were toned but not overtly muscular. Just the hint of down. That ridiculous nineties hair was back, grey now but still thick and glossy. It hadn’t even receded. He was aging from Ken doll to silver fox and he probably wasn’t even trying.

‘That’s a hell of a way to greet a girl, Bob,’ Selina said, strolling over.

He looked at the bottle. ‘I was told this is what you drink, but I can pour you something else.’

‘It’ll do.’ Selina accepted the drink. ‘This is how you take meetings nowadays?’

‘It’s after ten,’ he said mildly. ‘I apologise I don’t have your energy to still look my best.’

Selina put her hand on her hip as she took a sip. ‘You have the luxury of being a man. I don’t have the indulgence of relaxing from absolute fucking perfection all the time.’

‘Ouch,’ he said. He leaned forward slightly. ‘If you want to muss up your hair or smear your makeup, I won’t mind.’

Selina snickered. ‘Yeah, that wouldn’t result in all kinds of wild gossip and rumours.’

He scratched his temple. His wedding ring glinted dully. ‘Nobody would be talking about your cutlery destroying oil jobs.’

Selina waved a hand at the ornate leather couch. He nodded. She sat down and crossed her legs. She saw him notice. Good. She looked _great_.

‘It’s just cutlery,’ she said. ‘It’s not gonna bring down any companies. Most people don’t use plastic forks, anyway, come on.’

‘Cutlery that melts at the temperature of a hot coffee,’ he remarked, sitting down opposite. His pants pulled slightly at the crotch, showing an outline that was more imagination than image.

Selina sighed. ‘Heard about that, huh?’

‘If there were any easy alternatives to plastics available don’t you think Exon and BP wouldn’t be investing in them?’

‘No,’ she said flatly. ‘I think they’d bury them so deep that nobody would ever find them.’

Bob sat back in his chair and extended his arm along the top. His shirt pulled slightly against his chest. 

‘They want to make money, Selina, that’s all they want. They don’t have some ideological need to destroy the planet.’ He took a sip of bourbon, and she saw a drop of the rich, amber liquid glisten on his lower lip.

‘Could’ve fooled me,’ she sneered. ‘I’ve heard about Ford buying up the electric car.’

Bob chuckled. ‘We should certainly all be judged by the behaviour of a notorious anti-semite over a hundred years ago.’

‘I’m glad you agree.’

Bob drained his glass. ‘The cutlery isn’t the biggest issue.’

‘No shit.’ She waggled her glass. ‘Top up?’

Bob topped up her glass and then poured himself another drink.

Selina sighed. ‘What’s the biggest issue then?’

Bob spread out his hands. ‘That this is a vanguard to change away from oil derivatives entirely. The media has been normalising oil as some kind of boogie man for decades. The last thing we need is for politicians to join in.’

Selina’s jaw tightened. ‘I’m not going to get into a debate with you about environmental issues.’

‘It was suggested that a full-frontal assault would be the best response,’ he said. ‘Make such an example of your melty cutlery that nobody tries it again for the next hundred years.’

Selina leaned back and took a gulp of her bourbon. ‘And bury me with it?’

Bob tapped his thumbs on his glass. ‘We don’t have to be the bad guys here.’

‘You kinda are though,’ she said.

‘I’ve been where you are,’ Bob said gently. ‘You want to push legislation, you want to make positive change in the world, but you’re stuck as the president’s fall guy. Most of the time you’re locked out and when you’re included it feels like you’re only there to be derided or insulted.’

Selina swallowed. ‘Well… That might be your experience, Bob, but President Hughes is a very collaborative… Ah, fuck. That doesn’t even convince me.’

They both laughed. He even had a mid-range laugh.

She sipped her bourbon. ‘Your president was supposed to be Mr Walks-On-Fucking-Water.’

Bob shrugged. ‘That’s all about perception.’

‘So, what you’re saying is that your paymasters want to melt me like one of my spoons but you say… what?’

Bob leaned forward in his chair. ‘There are other things that you can do to fight for the environment, Selina. We’ve got lots of research that we’d be happy to share with you.’

Selina rubbed her lips. ‘Research on things that couldn’t possible affect your bottom line.’

Bob shrugged. ‘Like I said, it’s all about making money. We’ll leave the ideology to you.’

‘Except when you don’t like it,’ Selina said sourly.

‘Afraid so,’ he said. He moved over to the couch beside her.

Selina flipped her hair back and wet her lips.

‘We can be friends, Selina,’ he said.

‘Uh huh,’ she said. She could smell his cologne now. Even at this time in the evening his shave was very close. ‘We could do that.’

‘Great!’ he said enthusiastically. He stood up suddenly. ‘That’s such a relief.’ He gave her a bland smile. ‘Please feel welcome to finish your drink.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I need to give my wife a quick call and let her know that I’m going to be home tomorrow. We’re going to her ranch.’

‘Oh,’ Selina said weakly. ‘Sure,’ she said, finishing her drink. ‘This was uh… sure.’

As she reached the door she glanced back and saw him on the phone, cooing to his wife.

Trusted and well-liked.

Selina pushed over an ornament. As it shattered onto the floor, she sauntered into the elevator. Tomorrow she was going to yell at Amy and Dan so _damn_ hard.

Tonight, she was going to lie in bed thinking about something other than Bingo Bob Russell. Definitely. Definitely not thinking about his stupid 90s floppy hair, long legs, and handsome face.

God damn it.

The End


End file.
